


It Is Not Fantasy

by sarkywoman



Category: Captain America (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M, some implications of Howard/Loki
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-14 14:42:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9186743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarkywoman/pseuds/sarkywoman
Summary: 'Captain America: First Avenger' AU. Loki is cast out for some minor mischief and tasked with finding the tesseract. He finds Steve Rogers.





	1. Chapter 1

When Loki hit the hard floor it knocked the breath out of his lungs. The air he pulled in to replace it was so cold it burned. He could withstand it, of course he could, but the shock left him reeling so soon after the familiar warmth of Asgard. Had father really dropped him on Jotunheim, of all places? The realm of monsters? He would be killed!

No. Loki forced himself up to his hands and knees. He was Loki, Prince of Asgard, Son of Odin, Maker of Mischief. He could outsmart and outrun anything the icy wastes threw at him. Who knew, maybe Thor would come grovelling to take him home. The prank had only been half Loki's invention anyway. Surely the guilt would soon begin to gnaw at his big brother, once he realised how dangerous Loki's punishment was. 

There were cobblestones under his hands, where he had smudged the snow aside. Loki ran his palm over them curiously. He raised his head and looked around, ignoring the steam his breath made in the air. Yes, it was cold, but many realms had cooler seasons. This snow was too light for Jotunheim. Now that his initial shock was passing he saw small buildings, slightly larger than the shops in the Merchants' Quarter back in Asgard but with similar wares of foodstuffs and fashion. Nothing near Asgardian courtly fashion though.

His head was beginning to throb from his fall, but he squinted against the light reflecting off of the snow. Not far away a small crowd had gathered, watching him as they gossiped nervously. They were similar in bodily structure, but Loki could sense weakness in their mortal frames. Humans. Midgard.

His father had roared something about locating the lost tesseract. That was how Loki would earn his journey home. He thought it was here? On _Midgard_? Oh, the Allfather was growing careless indeed in his old age to have so misplaced his jewel.

Still, that was of little consequence to Loki. He forced himself to stand upon trembling legs and tried to focus his power to create a portal. He would go on a merry jaunt through the branches of Yggdrasil before slinking back to Asgard. They would have forgiven his tiny misdemeanour by then.

It was a struggle to draw enough power. He was focusing the energy into his palm and the glow of green light was intensifying, but it was like trying to lift Mjolnir. Well, not quite. He was making some slow progress with this. 

“Sir?”

A woman called from down the street, striding towards him fearlessly. Behind her a man pointed a weapon in Loki's direction, his eyes darting nervously between her and Loki. 

While he was partially curious about the advances Midgard had made since his last visit, Loki had no intention of playing into his father's hands. With a surge of effort, his portal flashed into existence. A tear in the fabric between worlds just wide enough for him to slip through.

He staggered. His spell had taken more out of him than it should have. The world began to spin. Loki reached for the portal but it seemed to move away from him.

No. He was falling backwards.

The cobblestones were just as hard against his skull and spine as before. He lay there winded, watching the portal twist and wither away as the woman's heels clacked against the street louder and louder.

Soon she stood over him, hair curling against her shoulders and lips painted red. She held a weapon as her fellow had, but hers rested gently aimed away from him. 

“That was an interesting magic trick,” she said, smiling. “Who are you?”

“I am Loki. A guest in your realm. A prince, in fact. You should be honoured.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” She reached down with her free hand and Loki allowed her the pleasure of helping him to his feet. Even though he stood taller than her, she showed no signs of being intimidated. “I am Agent Peggy Carter. I welcome you to our 'realm', your highness. But you should be very careful about what you say next.”

“Oh?”

With a neat step back, Agent Peggy Carter raised her weapon and pointed it at his face. “Why are you here?”

Weapon-wielding civilians in the streets. Posters on the walls about the war effort. Fear so thick in the air it was almost a smog. Loki did not need to be a master manipulator to know what he had to say here.

“To lend aid to the cause, of course.”

Slowly, she lowered the weapon to her side. Her people must have been desperate indeed to trust so readily. She nodded.

“Well I hope you have better tricks up your sleeve than that.”


	2. Chapter 2

“You're tiring,” Peggy observed after the meeting, watching Loki draw a pattern on the table in the spilled drops of tea. His nails were darker than a woman's manicure, but not onyx-black as they had been months ago.

He raised his eyes to her, arching an eyebrow. “If you are referring to to my remarks in the meeting, I think further consideration will prove the general deserved them. Or worse. Frankly he's lucky I held my tongue as much as I did.”

“I certainly won't pretend that your constant objections were useful, but that isn't what I meant. I didn't mean you were being tiresome, I meant you seem to be growing tired.”

Loki blinked at this, seemingly taken aback by the comment. For a few moments the silver-tongued trickster struggled for words. Of course haughty pride won out and he looked away, folding his arms. 

“I am perfectly fine. It will take more than the prattling of your superiors to exhaust me.”

“You've been growing increasingly lethargic since you arrived here. You used to seem somehow otherworldly, but that seems to be draining right out of you. I would very much appreciate it if you would let the scientists take another look at you.”

The God fallen from Asgard rolled his eyes and huffed like a petulant child being asked to clean. “That won't be necessary or productive. As I said, I am perfectly fine. As fine as can be expected, given my continued estrangement from Asgard.”

“You said before that your power was not directly dependent on the place.”

Had she caught another lie? Loki seemed to give them one falsehood for every truth. It had made it extremely difficult to legitimise his most outrageous claims at the start, that he was a god from the mythical realm of Asgard. Still, his powers had eventually convinced the Strategic Scientific Reserve that he was too valuable a resource to waste. Shape-changing, teleportation, perhaps even mind-control. In exchange for a little information he had performed admirably in their service as a spy. But as time passed, Loki was becoming more reluctant to simply 'trot out' a spell or trick. He seemed to be conserving his strength. But not effectively. Even the green glow of his eyes had faded. With a change of clothes he would easily pass for normal now.

“My power was hard-won over centuries,” Loki hissed. “It is _not_ dependent on the likes of Asgard. Certainly there are benefits to the atmosphere there, but there is magic everywhere for those skilled enough to tap into it. My problem, if you must have every excruciating detail, is that my father bound me.”

Peggy waited a moment, but no further clarification was forthcoming. “I'm not sure I know what you mean.”

“The Allfather bound my power. A deeply unreasonable measure. I would not expect anyone without access to magic to fully comprehend what a violation it is. If Asgard respected magic even a smidgen more I very much doubt such a punishment would be considered. But magic is a toy to them. So they thought nothing of putting it away. My ability to... replenish? Yes, let's say that. My ability to replenish my magical energy is severely limited. I fear that too long spent in this realm might leave me entirely...”

“Human?” Peggy guessed.

Loki laughed. “Bor's blood, no. That I will never stoop to, though it may become indiscernable to the untrained eye.” He winced at the thought and began toying with his cup, looking at the dregs of tea within. 

“Are you sure there's nothing we can do to help?”

He smiled charmingly. “I'm touched that you would offer, Peggy, given the distrust I engender in your colleagues.”

“You _are_ from another world. And frankly, you don't go out of your way to put them at ease.”

“Should I? I rather thought your military would have a thicker skin.”

“Keep arguing with them and you're likely to get shot. If you're dead you won't object to our scientists taking a look at you.” He laughed at that, thankfully. His sense of humour was sometimes hard to judge. “I really think you should give them another opportunity though. They might be able to help.”

He shook his head. “They won't. At best they will borrow more of my cells for this supersoldier nonsense.”

She could not help but smile at his continued pessimism. When she had brought him to the Strategic Scientific Reserve she had only intended to pass on a resource. His insistence at speaking to her over the subsequent weeks had led to an unlikely friendship of sorts. His wry dismissal of human achievement had been annoying at first, but after much repetition it had become as familiar as a pet dog's yapping. 

“Truly you don't think much of our sciences, do you?”

“I don't think they would serve me well in magical pursuits, no. Still, Howard Stark is an intriguing fellow. I would not mind discussing Midgardian science with him a little more.”

Peggy _tsked_ at the little smirk curving his lips. Deviant.

“Stark is more of a cad than you are and I doubt even he would be interested in that.”

“In what?” Loki widened his eyes, aiming for a look of innocence but not even approaching it. “In discussing science? Or has your filthy mind concocted something more entertaining?” He leered. “Do tell.”

Her slap was affectionate, making him laugh as it knocked him away. “You need to be on your best behaviour. He is going to be present on our mission and I will not have you jeopardise things through lascivious behaviour. Or any of your normal behaviour, for that matter. No tricks or cruel japes. No magic where normal people might see. It's always a frantic game to cover up your spells from the public.”

“Don't worry. I shan't be doing much of that unless I have to.”

“Good. This mission could win us the war.”

“Making one man with the strength of a god.” Loki laughed, scornful. “A pity for you that it was not my brother who fell. With the way you speak, I think he could have turned the whole war on its head.”

“You've done your part,” Peggy reassured him. She probably did not need to, but whenever Loki spoke of his brother Thor it was in bitter deference. At some point he had been told that 'different' meant 'inferior'. She had fought against that notion for her entire life. 

She slid her file over to him on the table, stopping just short of the teacup. “The latest updates on relic information. As agreed.”

“Thank you.” He flipped the cover open and began perusing the documents. Peggy stood and brushed her uniform down, ready to get back to work.

“Remember, you're not supposed to have that. Get it back to me as soon as you've had a good look. And don't forget to pick up your uniform.”

Loki looked appalled. “I thought you were joking when you said I would have to dress the part.”

“Afraid not.” As she left she could not resist one more tease and she turned neatly on her heel. “Don't despair. It's possible Howard likes a man in uniform.”

The teacup smashed against the door less than a second after she whipped it shut.


	3. Chapter 3

If Steve had expected camaraderie and courage once he met his new brothers-in-arms, he overcame the disappointment shortly after arrival. After the bus ride with jeering fellas who towered over him, he realised that this would be nothing like the smiling troops he saw in the movies. It was probably just early jitters, though. After their training no doubt these guys would come to appreciate the worth of teamwork and high morale. They were just joking around because they were in high spirits.

Even their teasing couldn't diminish Steve's excitement. He had made it. He had been given the chance to prove himself, finally. When he lined up with the rest he felt taller just by association. He tried standing even taller than that, feet tensed up in his boots. 

A military-styled couple strolled over. Steve hadn't realised there would be women present beyond nurses but she seemed confident in her place there, smiling at them with striking red lips. The man with her was no less striking, pale as only a Brit could be but with the blackest possible hair. It reached his chin in total disregard of military regulation, but he seemed as confident of himself as the woman beside him. 

“Recruits, attention!” They snapped smartly into rigid postures when she called. “I'm Agent Carter and this is my colleague Agent Odinson. I supervise all operations for this division.”

Steve noticed that she said 'I'. Not 'we'. Was she Agent Odinson's superior? He met the green eyes of the man who stood further back, arms folded and apparently uninterested in proceedings. When Agent Odinson raised an eyebrow questioningly at him, Steve quickly looked away. Agent Carter continued her walk down the line, until she reached Hodge, who couldn't resist the opportunity to make a remark.

“What's with the accent, Queen Victoria? Thought I was signing up for the US Army?”

Agent Carter stopped and regarded him a moment before asking, “What's your name, soldier?”

“Gilmore Hodge, your majesty.”

He just didn't know when to quit. This lady had clearly told them she was their supervisor, yet he spoke to her as if she was some dame he was pestering at the movie theatre. 

“Step forward, Hodge.” He did so, looking down the line at the rest of them. “Put your right foot forward.”

Behind her, Agent Odinson smirked slightly. Hodge didn't seem to notice, still leering at Agent Carter.

“We gonna wrassle?” 'Cause I got a few moves I _know_ you'll like.”

Her fist flew forward in a blur, but Steve heard the impact. Hodge hit the ground before anyone could move. Agent Odinson laughed at the display while Agent Carter cleared her throat and smiled innocently at the rest of them.

A jeep pulled up. “Agent Carter! Loki!”

“General Phillips!”

Agent Carter turned and saluted the grey-haired man climbing out of the vehicle. Doctor Erskine followed the General close behind. Carter's colleague – Agent Odinson or Loki? – kept his hands clasped behind his back.

“I'm Agent Odinson here,” the man said as the General made his way over to them.

But the General looked over him with no effort to conceal disdain. “You call yourself whatever you like. I'll do the same. It wasn't my choice to let you on this base and I've got my eye on you.”

While Agent Carter winced on her colleague's behalf, Agent Odinson merely smiled, maintaining eye contact without blinking until the General turned away from him to address the assembled men. He looked over Hodge, still getting his bearings on the ground.

“I see you're breaking in the candidates. That's good.” Looming over Hodge he ordered, “Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in line at attention 'til somebody comes tells you what to do.”

Hodge nodded, nose bleeding from Agent Carter's right fist. “Yes sir!”

The General began his speech. He spoke of winning the war with the best men. It was difficult to ignore the man's heavy gaze upon him, his pause when he saw Steve among his candidates, but Steve kept his eyes front and centre. He would prove himself. When the General went on to say they would all get much better, Steve felt his heart pound. He would. He would train until exhaustion each and every day. He would obey orders, he would learn strategy. He would become a soldier and protect the weak. 

They learned that day about the Strategic Scientific Reserve, an Allied effort comprised of the greatest minds of their time. That was the division leading this operation, the department that Agents Carter and Odinson were from. That probably explained why they didn't look like typical military.

In one week they would choose the best candidate, their would-be 'super-soldier'. One week to show he could improve, to match up with these guys. They were all six foot and strapping. Did he even have a chance?

They were permitted time to learn the base and settle in that first day after dinner. The insecurity nagged at him for the entire time he spent making his bed and setting his books on the little night-stand. Hodge was throwing a tantrum because he had lost his cigarettes and was intimidating some of the guys into helping him find them.

He looked at the men around him, their muscles bulging, and he tried to reassure himself. Doctor Erskine had chosen him for a reason. Even if he didn't get picked to be the supersoldier, he would be part of the unit. There would be other missions, more training, other tasks he could perform for the war. He just had to avoid being sent home.

Eager to get some peace away from Hodge's yelling that he was going to beat up whoever stole his cigarettes, Steve slipped out into the evening. It had cooled more than expected and he found himself rubbing his arms as he watched a squad in the distance running through some exercises. That would be him tomorrow.

“Are you cold, Rogers?”

The refined British accent could only belong to one man that Steve had met so far. He turned to see Agent Odinson leaning against the wall of the barracks, smoke curling from his lips into the dim sky. Steve eyed the cigarette hanging loosely from elegant, pale fingers and for a moment he had a suspicion. He dismissed it just as quickly. A senior official wouldn't _steal_...

“It's from Hodge's stash if you want,” Agent Odinson said casually, offering it up. 

Steve flinched away, just the smell of it triggering a small coughing fit. He forced himself to get it under control, embarrassed by his sensitivity. Agent Odinson's amused smile didn't make him feel any better. 

“My apologies. I forgot about your lungs.” He stubbed the cigarette out against the wall, then slid his hands into his pockets. He wore a stylish black greatcoat over his dark green uniform. His uniform fit him strangely. Unlike Steve, the agent was tall enough that he didn't need to turn up the trouser legs, but he was not terribly muscular for his height. That led the fabric to hang a little loose in places.

“What do you know about my lungs, Agent Odinson?”

“Please, call me Loki. My title is more of an affectation to put the men at ease. When history wants the names of the fine fellows here today, I won't be on that list. I'm not officially here at all.”

“You didn't answer my question, Loki.”

“No, I didn't.” The man laughed. Steve's distrust must have shown. “I've worked with Erskine on this project. I've seen everyone's medical files. Yours was fascinating. I'd never seen anything like it. The doctor said you were rejected from sign-up booths multiple times, no matter what deceits you attempted.”

Why did everyone speak about it as though it was some sort of game? People were dying out there and Steve was desperately trying to do his part, but people thought it was a big joke.

“Yeah, well, sometimes all the lies in the world can't cover up how you look.”

Loki smiled slightly. “Not in this world. Besides, it isn't always just looks, is it? Your deficiencies are more than skin-deep.”

“Easy for you to comment on from your position,” Steve grumbled. He made to move past Loki, suddenly sick of being outside. Loki's pale hand caught him by the shoulder with a surprisingly strong grip.

“Do I seem like a typical soldier to you?” For a moment they simply stared at one another, as if examining each other for the first time. Loki loosened his grip, but let his hand continue to rest on Steve's shoulder. “Perhaps I am simply trying to reassure you. I have deficiencies of my own. According to this lot, anyway.”

At this unexpected show of camaraderie, Steve felt less inclined to storm away. “The General doesn't seem to like you very much.”

“No, he does not. Hard to say if that's due to my disinclination to fight with my fists or my deviant behaviour.”

Steve startled at that, looking over the man's handsome face for any indication of context. Surely he couldn't mean what their American peers would have meant by that. Loki had said it with no shame and he smiled at Steve's surprise.

“What? Don't look at me like that. According to a couple of sign-up officers your list of inadequacies included 'possible inclinations towards sexual deviance', so you're hardly in a position to judge.”

“I don't... I've never...” 

Loki just kept on _smiling_ at him. Was this a threat? A flirtation? No. Both were ridiculous to even imagine, but then why... Steve cleared his throat.

“Please don't insinuate things. I've got a difficult time ahead of me as it is, without becoming the laughing stock of the camp.”

The man rolled his eyes. Even in the dim light of the evening Steve could clearly see the green of his irises. He would be pleasant to draw, a mixture of sharp angles and more delicate features.

“Don't worry about what these fools laugh at. Typical warriors are all the same.” An odd phrasing, but Steve let it slide. They looked out at a band of brothers who were wandering back to the barracks, joking loudly and shoving one another. It was friendly enough, but Loki sneered as if they were only proving his point.

It was starting to rain. Loki looked up and closed his eyes as a drop landed on his pale forehead. Another landed on his lips. Steve couldn't look away, already re-imagining the scene in pencil. 

Loki opened his eyes again and shrugged off his dark coat. Steve was wondering why he would take his coat off at the first sign of rain when suddenly the heavy fabric was draped around his shoulders. “Here. You'll catch your death.”

“Wait, I can't...”

“Of course you can. I'm heading back inside anyway. Just don't get it muddy.” Loki turned away. “Oh, and I intended to reassure you, Rogers. Erskine is not interested in a typical warrior anymore than I am.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

But Loki ignored him, walking off towards the officer's building where he undoubtedly had his bed.

Steve huddled under the coat. It was warm and comforting, even with the slight smell of cigarette smoke. He stood outside watching other groups in their training exercises until the excitement of the day caught up with him. Then he made his way back to his bunk, analysing half of what Loki had told him while pushing the rest from his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Peggy looked over her list again. It was refreshing to do her work outside. Much better than sitting hunched over a rickety desk in a stale-smelling officer's room, even if it meant driving out to the edge of the base to get away from all the noise of training. 

“I just don't see the point of this,” Loki grumbled, lounging as best he could in the driver's seat of their little jeep. He had taken to driving enthusiastically, if not safely.

“Then you needn't have accompanied me. There is more to our work here than watching and waiting. We need data to back-up everything that we're doing. Things need to be noted for accuracy as well as posterity. I would have thought you capable of understanding the importance of annotation.”

Loki rolled his eyes. “In certain situations. Humans seem to have a fascination with unnecessary bureaucracy. You prolong unfavourable situations by insisting on paperwork. The best candidate is already obvious, why wait?”

She could not stop her smile. “You mean Rogers.”

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Why are you grinning at me like that?”

“I just like hearing fondness from you. It's uncommon.”

“Maybe there just isn't much to be fond of on Midgard.”

“Except Steve Rogers?”

“You overstate my interest.”

Making another note on the paper attached to her clipboard, Peggy said, “Perhaps. Are you still in correspondence with Howard Stark then?”

For a while Loki simply regarded her with his eyes still narrowed. He folded his arms. “You know, given you consider my behaviour deviant, you're awfully interested in it.”

“Call it a morbid fascination.”

“I'll call it sexual repression with a hint of voyeurism, I think. I'm sure you're perfectly aware that I _am_ in contact with Stark, but our correspondence is of a scientific nature. I think you forget that I've invested in this project as well. With something more valuable than money.”

“Stark is an intelligent man. So are you. It wouldn't surprise me in the least if you were both able to convey multiple meanings in your letters to one another.”

Her partner laughed. “Erotic codes for the Nazis to decipher, what a thought.”

“Oh my,” she laughed along with him. “It would certainly divert their attention for a while!”

After their mirth had subsided, he returned to their former subject. “Erskine is looking for a very different sort of man for this project. I think he has only involved the military for the sake of funding. He isn't really looking for a soldier. He wanted someone with a soldier's devotion, that's all. Steve has that.”

She shrugged. Oh, she could certainly see his point, but... “There are other considerations. Rogers seems smart enough, but he hasn't stood out beyond the rest yet. His test scores so far have been on par with theirs. I think we would need to see some indication of strong critical thinking abilities before we could consider him a true cut above the rest.”

Loki nodded slowly. “That makes sense. You don't want to imbue godlike powers on a fool. Trust me, I know too many foolish gods.” He looked at her, confused by her smile. “What? It's true.”

“I know it is, it just never seems real to me.” She looked over her list again. They could head back shortly. She could use a cup of tea. “The general still doesn't favour Rogers. His opinion is important, but he values strength and courage above all else.”

“What is as courageous as joining the war with a physique like Steve's?”

“He isn't convinced. So far he considers Rogers little more than a burden on the men and it's hard to dispute it. If they went to war tomorrow, that unit would have to carry him or slow down. He needs to show he can contribute more than them in some way, in bravery or some other skill. Erskine is only one voice in the debate. At the end of this week we _all_ need to make our decision. Together.”

Footsteps and shouting heralded the oncoming unit. They both looked behind the jeep to see the unit arrive at the flagpole. Steve Rogers trailed behind, clearly struggling. He made for quite the tragic figure, bending over to rest his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. He wanted this so badly and she wanted so badly to see him achieve it, but she could not be sure he was ready. Wanting was not enough. She knew that from her own experience.

Quite without their consent, the unit was offered a ride back with them by the barking drill sergeant. The only condition was that they obtain the flag from atop the pole. Soldiers flung themselves at the metal stick, scrabbling as high as they could before lack of grip and gravity slowed their progress and dropped them back down in shame. Hodge made it a fair way up to his credit, but not all the way to the flag and in moments the other lads were stepping on him to get a start up. 

Steve didn't even try. The sergeant began crowing about nobody reaching the flag in seventeen years, then called them back to formation. 

“Rogers!”

For some reason, Steve hadn't obeyed promptly. He had walked over to the flagpole. He reached down for the pin holding the pole in place and wiggled it loose before tugging it free. The white metal rod tilted then swung heavily down to the ground, planting the coveted flag in the dirt. He strode to the piece of fabric and bundled it up, handing it over to the stunned sergeant. 

“Thank you, sir.”

Then he clambered onto the jeep, seemingly rather proud of himself. Loki smiled warmly at the lad, then revved the engine and got them on their merry way back to base.

Peggy put her pencil to the paper to add another note.

_Clear critical thinking capabilities make Rogers a strong contender for the role._


	5. Chapter 5

“Faster ladies, come on. My grandmother has more life in her, god rest her soul. Move it!”

Peggy was in her element issuing commands, strolling with authority back and forth while the men did push-ups. It was very strange to Loki how the exercises of Asgardian children were utilised in the training of Midgardian warriors. Thor would not be caught doing these 'push-ups' without at least three maidens sat atop his back and shoulders. 

Alas, even in this Steve Rogers struggled. His arms trembled as he fought to push his own weight a small distance above the ground. He glanced up, blue eyes seeking out witnesses to his humiliation. When he locked gazes with Loki he quickly looked back down at the ground. 

It was impossible not to feel sorry for the lad, remembering the training exercises of his own past in Asgard. The warriors loved to mock Loki then. It had taken years to make them fear him and he had only achieved that through choosing a different path. Had he resolved to follow in Thor's footsteps as his father wanted, he might still be there losing sparring matches and embarrassing his family in battle. 

Here though, Steve had an opportunity to advance down the path formerly denied to him. If he could only convince these witless warriors of his courage or worth, he would be granted power far above anything his fellows could achieve in their mortal lives. He would be able to live his dreams to protect his people. Loki wanted that for him. It was a noble and sweet ambition, so different to his own. If his divinity was to be bestowed through science to any mortal man, better it be a good man than some ungrateful oaf. He could imagine the disbelieving looks on the faces of his family, if Loki Odinsson created a glorious hero for the realm of Midgard.

Across from the men, Doctor Erskine continued to attempt to reason with General Phillips. The good doctor was keen that Steve be selected for the project. He perceived the same goodness in him that Loki did. Peggy had hesitated to agree with them, too cautious of her own kind sentiment, but she now believed they had a solid argument in Steve's favour. But the General was not so convinced. He could not look past Steve's medical conditions and his meagre frame. The military did not teach imagination, it taught men to make use of what they had. General Phillips could not conceive of the potential their project possessed. He could not imagine how Steve Rogers might utilise the power the project would grant him, he only envisaged a ninety-pound asthmatic being sent to battle. 

Certainly, when Peggy ordered jumping-jacks Steve looked like he might pass out at any moment.

When General Phillips and Doctor Erskine came to a stop nearby, the General's look of utter distaste in Steve's direction left Loki with no notion that they were discussing anything else. They needed the General on board, but he was stubborn. Loki would not be at all surprised to find that his own involvement made the man less optimistic about their experiment. While the military officials had initially been thrilled at Loki's presence on Midgard, his insistence on remaining free and conscious seemed to hamper their plans for him. He had donated time and genetic material to their research as a gesture of goodwill, but they clearly viewed him with suspicion still. Not only that, but Loki suspected that Phillips found him to be no more masculine than Steve Rogers. Masculinity seemed as vital to this society as it was on Asgard. Peggy had agreed that was the case. 

“Grenade!”

The shout jarred Loki from his thoughts and all the soldiers dove to the side, away from the small device that rolled along the ground. Steve dove atop it, curling around the grenade to protect others from the blast. Loki ran forward, Peggy with him. 

“Get back!” Steve shouted at them. “Get away!”

Peggy looked to him in fear and Loki curled his hand around, green light playing over his fingers. He managed to put a flimsy shield around the weapon. Once he would have been able to entirely contain the blast or send the grenade elsewhere altogether, but in his current state he could only make sure that Steve would walk away from this. Perhaps with some broken ribs.

Moments passed. 

The ever-so-brave soldiers who had sought cover began poking their heads out to see what was happening. Steve eventually looked up and around, realising the threat was minimal.

“Dummy grenade,” the General said, sounding unusually subdued. Peggy breathed a sigh of relief and patted Loki on the shoulder.

“Is this a test?” Steve asked, looking around. “Why is it glowing green?”

Loki released his spell. What a waste of carefully-hoarded magic. He would need to--

A sudden light-headed feeling swept over him as the magic whipped away. He tried to stand very still, to exert as little effort as possible in any sort of motion or muscle strain. He took a deep, slow breath.

“Are you alright?” Peggy asked.

“Yes, I just...” His vision swam, the field and soldiers blurring and swaying. “Ah. No.”

He felt himself falling but was out cold before he hit the ground.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve found it difficult to concentrate on his tasks for the rest of the day. He had already been struggling against physical exhaustion. After the incident with the dummy grenade, he had to deal with distraction as well. His mind kept returning to Loki's quiet admission that he was not well, then his sudden collapse. Agent Carter had barely caught him, lowering him to the ground as the other soldiers scoffed at Loki's perceived weakness.

It did not seem likely that Loki was prone to fainting from distress, though. Even the General had watched them carry him away with something akin to concern. He would not have been troubled if he had thought it mere cowardice. Not to mention Loki, as well as Peggy Carter, had dashed forward when they saw the grenade. A coward would not have done that.

Only the drill sergeant's barking kept Steve in line for the rest of the afternoon. As soon as they were free to go, he dashed back to his bunk. In the trunk at the end he had stashed Loki's dark greatcoat, waiting for an opportunity to return it. The guys had mocked when he had worn it back into the barracks. They'd shown more observational skills than he'd expected and now they liked to make jokes about him getting in with the agents. There had been a few unpleasant notes shoved into his bed as well, but Steve wasn't going to let them get a rise out of him. He knew better than to think he could brawl with these guys without getting kicked out. As long as they didn't spread word about his supposed 'deviance' too far, he could keep his head down and do his best.

Certainly rumour hadn't harmed Loki's career, if he was an agent of the Strategic Scientific Reserve. Sure, the guys had said a lot about him being outranked by Agent Peggy Carter, but he still probably outranked all of them. They didn't dare say anything to his face. One time Hodge had muttered something about Agent Odinsson's inclinations from over ten metres away. Loki had briskly turned back to face them and asked with a sharp smile if Hodge could repeat himself. Hodge had scowled and stayed silent.

Still, it wasn't a good idea for Steve's reputation to be caught dallying with the man. It wouldn't be good for either of their reputations. He would keep his visit short. He would hand over the coat and check Loki was well. 

He kept his head down and walked quickly, the big coat bundled in his arms. He didn't look around to see if he was being noticed at all. He didn't want to know. 

In fact, he was in such a hurry that he almost walked straight into the curtained off area without registering the voices beyond. Luckily Peggy's raised voice startled him and he stopped just outside the curtain that separated a small section of the infirmary from the rest. The room was empty anyway, a row of neatly-made beds awaiting patients. Clearly they felt that an empty room wasn't private enough for Loki.

“Are you telling me you don't know what's wrong?”

In response to Agent Carter's distress, Doctor Erskine's voice spoke calm and slow. Steve watched his silhouette move about beyond the curtain.

“There is still so much about him that we do not know. But as I said, in this case it is a fairly good bet that it is to do with the withdrawal of his divine power.”

“He said it was bound, not taken.”

“Still, it becomes harder and harder for him to draw on that energy to accomplish his logic-defying feats. I think I saw a spark of it out there, a flash of green...”

“He was protecting Steve Rogers. It was rather crass, throwing a dummy grenade into those green boys.”

“Perhaps, but it worked.”

“General Phillips is on board?”

“He is. The man admires courage, just like the rest of us.”

“Loki will be pleased to hear that. He's been rooting for Steve since he arrived.”

“Yes, I've noticed. Undoubtedly he sympathises with the boy's underdog position. From what I've heard of his own past he was not the biggest fish in the pond himself.”

Peggy scoffed. “What, the Norse God was the little guy?”

“On Asgard, I think so. True, he was the prince of his people, but the second prince. Gods have hierarchy and bias just as we do. I don't think Loki ticked many more of the socially acceptable boxes in that society than he does our own here on Earth.”

Steve had been slowly backing away towards the door of the infirmary, treading as softly as he could. What they were saying was absolutely crazy and obviously not for his ears. He was going to leave now and forget he had ever heard anything. 

Unfortunately he bumped into a cabinet and knocked over a dozen instruments, which clattered loudly on the floor. The curtain ahead of him was snatched back, Peggy pointing her gun before seeing him and relaxing with a sigh. 

“Sneaky as well? Something else to add to your profile, I suppose.”

“I didn't... I didn't mean to overhear, I was just...”

Holding the greatcoat up, he hoped it was enough explanation. Peggy beckoned with her free hand. 

“Get in here. What did you hear?”

Scurrying forward, Steve was relieved to see her holster her weapon. She left the curtain pulled open, keeping an eye on the door. Clearly his eavesdropping had made her concerned for their privacy.

“You said, um, that the General was pleased with me.”

“Pleased enough, let's not overstate things. About Loki, Steve. What did you hear?”

“I don't know. Nonsense about Norse Gods. Asgard.”

“It's not nonsense,” Doctor Erskine said with a kind smile. “You should know this, if you're to be the final piece of our project. It's not common knowledge of course and we expect you to be discreet, but a handful of our scientists and superior officers know that Loki is from another world. Or realm, as he calls it. Asgard, the home of the Gods.”

Steve looked at the pale man laying unconscious in the bed. Beautiful as he was, he did not look like a god.

“I... see.”

“Clearly you don't,” Peggy said with a smirk. “And I don't blame you. He has been somewhat lacking in divinity of late. Still, what magic he has left he's used to protect you, so try to show a little respect.”

He had seen the glow. In the panic he had thought it – and the warmth – a sign of imminent detonation. He hadn't questioned the colour. Now he wondered.

More than wondered, he tentatively believed.

“Will he be okay?”

Doctor Erskine sighed and took off his glasses to polish them on his sleeve. “I have every reason to believe he will recover, but these... magical backlashes, shall we say... seem to be increasing in severity. Soon he will need to forgo using his power at all.”

“His magic powers.”

The doctor raised his eyebrows at Steve's tone. “Magic is simply a force we do not understand. In time it may not be so mysterious. All sciences must be explored before they become commonplace knowledge.”

Walking closer to the head of the bed, Steve lay down the greatcoat in as neat a fold as he could manage on the chair nearby. Loki looked peaceful in his unconsciousness, his ever-present frown absent from his handsome face. 

“You said that I ought to know this if I'm to be part of the project. Why? What's the connection?”

Erksine seemed awkward about it, but Peggy Carter had no such qualm. “His blood. Along with Doctor Erskine's complex compounds, we'll be injecting it into you. The essence of a god and the best science man can currently manage. Are you ready?”

Steve looked between the two of them and back to Loki's sleeping form.

“If that's what it takes.”

The man clapped a hand on his shoulder and squeezed a little before letting go. “Good man. I think we can leave Loki to rest under your supervision for a little while. Agent Carter?”

She smiled at him. “Of course.”

Panicking, Steve tried to call them back. “Wait, I wasn't planning on staying, I--”

“Word of advice, Steve,” Peggy said firmly. “It would be wise to use some of that bravery for yourself once in a while rather than spending it all on helping others.”

Then she darted out after Doctor Erskine, leaving Steve alone with the mysterious man who had turned out to be even stranger than he could have imagined. He pulled up the chair and took the greatcoat into his lap as he sat down. His fingers itched for the feel of a pencil pressing to paper as he tried to memorise Loki in repose.

“Just because you're prettier than any dame, doesn't make you a god,” he muttered.

Loki's lips curved upwards in a sly grin and he opened green eyes. 

“No, that would be the magic. But I'm flattered, nonetheless.”


End file.
